Things you see in a graveyard
by Death's essence
Summary: Charles goes to the graveyard one evening with the intention of losing his virginity but things don't go quite as planned and he ends up having an encounter with Death. Rated M for explicit content! Don't forget to leave a review!


I'm back! I apologize to everyone for the long absence but life isn't always fair and I've been incredibly busy. Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing and checking my profile for updates! I love you all! If you hadn't noticed, this little one-shot isn't part of my Metalocalypse Fairy Tales storyline! This is actually a birthday gift for my best friend, Miss Sunshine! It's a month late but…better late than never. But even though this is a birthday piece, please feel free to read anyways because I'm sure you'll enjoy it too! If you've read this or started this already, I will note that I went through half of it earlier and fixed several parts that I felt were awkward, as well as adding any words I accidentally left out. Please review when you finish because reviews keep this poor author alive!

Thank you to:

Dark-Huntress Moony- Thank you! Ha, I laughed when I saw you reviewed cause I was thinking to myself, I remember that username! She's been here before! I don't know why I found that amusing, but I thought I should tell you. You make me chuckle. Your praise also makes me blush and I'm very grateful for your review! I apologize again for taking so long with the next chapter of Metalocalypse Fairy Tales but I promise to put it up in the last week of June. It's not done yet because I'm taking four classes in a one-month semester. DON'T EVER DO THAT! EVER! Graduating early is not worth the agony. But I only have two classes next month and i'm doing most of the work for it now so nothing will stand in my way of updating the Fairy Tales! NOTHING! Except my own mind...but i'm working on that haha! So thank you again and I will continue to update my profile on the next chapter so keep a look out! You rock and your review has renewed my energy!

Flight 815 Kitsune: Thank you for being the first to review! Yes, you got the reference right! And I definitely see your point about keeping Nathan's identity a secret. I originally thought about doing that but I decided to just have them in high school together though i'm not sure why I decided that now. It might have had something to do with locker room sequels, not sure. But I'm thinking I should rewrite the ending to keep him ambiguous after all and then I could just do a sequel where they meet again and Charles' "Death" senses start tingling. We shall see. But I'm glad you at least liked it and i'm sorry the ending bit wasn't your thing! But thank you again for reviewing!

So without further ado, Things You See In A Graveyard!

This was stupid. Not only was it stupid, but it was also dangerous. What had possessed a smart boy like himself, Charles Foster Offdensen, future lawyer extraordinaire and the current scapegoat for the high school population, to come out to a graveyard at three in the morning?

Ah, that's right, because Molly Parton, the girl he'd been fantasizing about since they'd been lab partners in freshman chemistry, had asked him to come out here. The real reason though was because this could finally be the moment he lost his virginity. For that same reason he didn't question why an upstanding female like Molly, whose grades and record were as painfully perfect as his own, would want to be anywhere outside of her bedroom after dark, especially someplace as sacred and cliché as a graveyard. But Charles hadn't been feeling like his usual self when Molly had pressed her small, perky breasts into his arm and asked him to join her at the resting place for the dead at the witching hour. No, he'd been feeling very, very hormonal. And those traitorous little hormones had taken his brain hostage at the worst moment, making him agree to the juvenile appointment, one that would surely jeopardize his acceptance at Georgetown.

And now here he was, running naked through a dark and creepy cemetery, covered in what looked like blood. He didn't want to be running around nude on this cold February night, but things hadn't exactly gone the way he had hoped they would with Molly.

Things had started swell enough, he'd met Molly at the entrance of the cemetery after sneaking out of his house. From there Molly had dragged him deep into the graveyard, where only the people who had been in the ground for at least a couple hundred years were buried. They were so far into the cemetery that passing cars and cops weren't going to be a problem, but getting out definitely would.

But his fears of possibly being lost forever and eventually being torn apart and devoured by zombies were hog-tied and brutally assassinated by his hormones when Molly stopped after ten minutes of walking and turned around to confess to Charles how she was in love with him and that she wanted to, and these were her words, not his, "become one with him, creating life in the gathering ground for death." She continued on with her pretty speech, something Charles had no doubt she'd taken the time to write out and memorize if her smooth delivery was any proof, but Charles had stopped listening after his brain, which was still under house arrest, had figured out that he was about to get hot female/male sex. By then, talking wasn't important, naked important.

Eventually Molly noticed the vacant, glazed look in Charles' eyes and realized that he really didn't give a rat's ass about why she had decided to have sex with him, only that it was going to happen and happen soon. With a huff that briefly made Charles think her prepared monologue meant more to her than the impending sex, she told him to undress while she did the same behind one of the large angel statues in the private, iron-gated section of the graveyard they were in. Nevermind that he was going to see her naked body anyways when they copulated, she wanted to keep what little bit of modesty the situation allowed, which meant she didn't want him watching her as the clothes came off.

Charles disrobed with the ease and grace of any virgin who had hit puberty late in his teens, leaving him smaller and less coordinated than most of his male peers and cursing him to be ridiculed all through middle and high school. In other words, he undressed like a wired-up rabbit suffering from a case of uncontrollable limb jerking. To make matters worse, it was cold out so his penis was almost impossible to find, having pulled itself back into the warm inner cavity of his body. It let Charles know that when things heated up with Molly it would return, but until then he could just enjoy being a eunich.

Charles stood shivering in the grass once he was undressed, still waiting for Molly to come out from behind the statue. It had been a long time since she had gone behind the marble angel and he was beginning to become worried. What if she had changed her mind? What if she had decided that Charles wasn't worthy of taking her virginity, or that he wasn't worthy of losing his virginity to her?

He called out to her, wondering if she had left while he had been struggling with the pant leg of his jeans. It wouldn't surprise him if she had, because even though Charles wasn't the ugliest boy in their school he wasn't exactly Mr. Popular either. But what he lacked in social skills he had made up for in intelligence, something he had thought Molly would appreciate. Now that he thought about it though, Molly seemed to be into more beefy guys, guys like Mitchell Walker, an idiot on the football team. Charles could see the appeal in a guy like Mitchell, tall, muscular, with a strong jaw and broad shoulders, his short blonde hair and baby blue eyes making him the target of many a female's romantic attention. He was about as smart as a pile of cow dung but what he lacked in brains he more than made up for in brawn. He looked like the bastard offspring of Adonis and Aphrodite- incredibly sexy but damaged from inbreeding. But when you had a package as big as the one Charles had seen him showing off in the locker room, a little retardation didn't seem all that bad.

Mitchell really was a sight to behold, even to someone like Charles who had always considered himself heterosexual. Now though, he liked to think of himself as sexually open-minded, willing to play on both sides of the field. Especially if that field contained men like Mitchell. It was really too bad though that someone who was so attractive had such a terrible personality, making anyone who had to spend more than five minutes with him want to create a suicide weapon to end their suffering, even if all that was available was mayonnaise, a crayon, and glitter. Desperation can make anyone a genius when the circumstances are grave enough.

But it didn't take a genius to figure out that Charles had been set up when someone besides Molly stepped out from behind the statue, his steps heavy and loud across the grass. As if summoned by his thoughts, Mitchell stepped into sight, his lips stretched into a lascivious sneer. Charles could have laughed or cried at that moment because it looked like he was once again the victim of a practical joke, only this time he wouldn't be escaping with only his pride injured. In Mitchell's hands was a bright blue bucket, filled to the brim with some sort of murky, shiny liquid. Before Charles could dodge it, the contents of the bucket were dumped over him, covering his skin in goo.

Charles cried out when the cold liquid hit him, his mind registering that the luminous fluid was probably a mixture of water, corn syrup, and red food coloring, a simple recipe for fake blood, even as his hands came up to shield his eyes from the assault. The sticky substance was everywhere, in his short, chestnut brown hair, dripping down his hairless, vaguely-defined chest, running in rivulets down over his groin and thighs. It stained his skin and made it crawl, an uncomfortable sensation that Charles would do anything to rid himself of.

Mitchell, of course, was laughing, the sound abrasive and loud to anyone who heard it. He was laughing hard enough that he had to lean against the statue to support himself while he enjoyed humiliating his classmate. Molly, who Charles was beginning to realize had only called him out here to set him up for this prank, peeked from around the statue, a grimace in place of her previous shy smile as she surveyed the scene.

She looked over at Charles, managing to adopt a guilty attitude when he glanced her way, but he would be having none of her remorse. Not tonight, not for this. Charles may have been a good guy but when you lead someone out in the cold during the night with a promise of sex and then don't deliver because you set that same person up to get hazed, then you might as well be asking forgiveness from a rock because Charles wasn't feeling very forgiving or understanding at the moment. He probably wouldn't until he'd had a shower and had read at least three chapters of his advanced biomolecular physics textbook. And that was after he cracked open his new "Mastering the MBE" practice guide. Preparing for the future always made him feel better and he would definitely need the secure comfort of knowing that he wouldn't be forced to endure humiliations like this for much longer.

At the moment though, nothing could make Charles feel like things would be okay, especially not Molly's pathetic explanation for her actions.

"I'm sorry, Charles, but Mitchell told me that if I brought you out here that he would take me to the prom! The prom, Charles! You have to understand what a big deal this is for me! Every girl in the school wants to go with him and he's going to be taking me! Isn't that worth a little teasing, to know that your friend will be happy?" She blinked huge, teary eyes at him, begging him to forgive her betrayal, but instead of seeing acceptance for her cruelty she was only met with disgust and icy rage. Still attempting to win over Charles' kinder side, she let loose a few gag-worthy hiccups and a trail of crocodile tears that were still rebuked with a resolve of steel.

Charles was flabbergasted with her behavior. How could someone he'd held in such high esteem, someone he'd thought was above such petty and trivial pursuits like prom dates, delude herself into thinking that it was acceptable to ask for forgiveness after actively taking part in a plan to demoralize him? He'd considered them friends! He'd helped her with her AP Calculus homework! And she thought that after stomping all over their relationship like Godzilla through Tokyo that he would just say, "You're right, prom is more important, who cares that I might never recover from this trauma, and that by Monday everyone will know I was naked in a cemetery hoping to get some action before graduation, only to be the butt of a huge joke that I fell face-first into? Let's be best friends again!" Oh no, Charles was not going to accept this as anything less than a termination of their farce of a friendship.

"Don't worry about the nerdlet, baby, he's gonna be fine. I brought someone along so he could have a little fun. You may lose your cherry yet, nerdmeiser!" Mitchell cackled, making a grab for Charles, the bucket already forgotten on the ground. His large hand enclosed around Charles' wrist as the smaller male tried to dart away. Lucky for Charles though, Mitchell's practical joke came in handy for him, making his skin slippery so that when Mitchell grabbed hold of him his grip slipped right off, giving Charles the chance to make a break for it.

"Stop it, Mitchell!" Molly screeched from behind him, "You said you were only going to do the bucket thing! You promised me you wouldn't hurt him! Leave him alone!" There was a dull thwak, like a shoe colliding with somebody's leg, and then the sound of Mitchell's pained grunt.

Molly may not have understood what the real plan was when she had promised to bring him out here, but Charles did. He'd known exactly what Mitchell had meant when he said he'd brought somebody along with him. It wasn't a very well-known fact, but there was someone on the football team that had a thing for Charles, someone who had no problem with his sexual interest being unwilling. And that someone was Blaine, who had just stepped into the narrow entrance of the iron gate and was blocking Charles' escape.

He smiled down at Charles from his superior height, fixing him with a predatory gaze that travelled down Charles' body before stopping at his groin, eyeing it with more attention than was polite.

"Hey there, Charlie-boy, going somewhere? Hope you weren't trying to leave before the fun started," Blaine drawled. His dark, coal-brown eyes never strayed from Charles' pelvis area.

When Molly started up a whole new round of screeching, Charles skipped giving a verbal response and instead used the distraction to land a solid kick straight into Blaine's genitalia before he vaulted over the downed football player in the next second. Charles ran like the devil was at his heels, not a sexually confused boy who had no idea how to properly express his interest in another human being. He took twists and turns without thinking about it, too worried about the goons behind him catching up to care about where he was going.

Finally, after what felt like years of running, he managed to shake off his pursuers by hiding in an open mausoleum. When things quieted down after a round of fruitless searching by Douchebags One and Two, Charles felt that it was safe to venture out into the cemetery and try to find the exit, hoping to get back to his room before morning broke over the horizon and blanketed the world with Dawn's soft light. He wanted to get home and wash the slime off of his skin because it was starting to dry and crack. At least he could take comfort in knowing that he was alone now with his predicament and that no one else would see him in his shame.

Or so he had thought.

"Whoa," a gravelly voice intoned from behind him, deeper inside the mausoleum, "That's not something you see every day. Did you come here to be sacrificed or something? Try the crypt two graves down." The voice was deep, hitting a note somewhere in Charles' body that sparked in interest. He imagined that the Grim Reaper or Death would sound like that, deep and seductive with a hint of amusement. He had to see who that voice belonged to.

Charles turned slowly on his heel to see who had spoken to him, ready for a demon, and instead finding a very attractive young man. But he doubted that this spectre was human, not with his pale, corpse-like skin splattered with patches of grey, or those inhuman, striking green eyes sunk in a pit of black. The bone-straight, ebony hair that fell past the strong jaw and hooked nose only made him seem even more supernatural as it blended with the black trench coat and boots.

"A-are you Death?" Charles heard himself ask distantly, feeling like he was having an out of body experience in the presence of something so otherworldly and beautiful.

The spectre smirked and looked off to the side, enjoying a private joke that only he understood. He stepped closer, taking in the sight of Charles from the front. His eyebrows rose appreciatively, the eyes relishing the image of the naked man slathered in blood.

"Sure," he answered dismissively, not really committing to the answer because he was paying more attention to Charles' body than the conversation. Charles colored under the unwavering stare, the flush blending in with the red fluid, even though he was flattered by the admiration of the handsome corporeal being. Since he'd never thought there would be a chance for him to gain the attention of someone so magnificent he made sure to do nothing to shirk the spectre.

The sudden pass of a flashlight put a brief stop to the flirting, alerting the two to the pair of cops searching nearby. Figures that when Charles finally manages to meet someone who wasn't a complete douchebag Mitchell would do something to split them up. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that all the noise Mitchell and Blaine had made while chasing him had gotten the cops called. Those same cops were walking through the grave markers, looking for the troublemakers who had been disturbing the peace. If they caught Charles now while he was naked and dripping with a substance akin to blood, they wouldn't be in the mood for explanations. Nope, they would take one look at him and just assume that he was here engaging in some sort of satanic ritual. And when that happened he could say bye-bye to Georgetown.

Death saved the day, and his future, by pulling him back into the mausoleum he had come out of and pushing the heavyset door closed. They were safe and hidden inside of the marble structure since the cops would be too superstitious to venture inside to check for them. They had escaped the authorities, for now.

The inside of the mausoleum was cold but there wasn't any wind, which Charles was thankful for. The temperature he could handle but the addition of wind always made the chill too much to bear. It also helped that he could see inside of the mausoleum, thanks to the candles that had been lit throughout the spacious room, giving the chamber an intimate, mystical feel. It was appropriate considering the occupant; someplace like this suited Death perfectly.

Death cleared his throat, bringing Charles' eyes back to him. He noted that his companion looked even more wraith-like in the candlelight.

"So, uh, why are you naked, running through a graveyard again? You didn't answer before. And is that…blood?" He stepped closer, closing the space that had separated them after the door had been closed. His black nails picked at the syrup concoction, only to come away smeared in red, as if his fingers had dipped into an open wound.

Charles' eyes followed the fingers longingly, as if his stare could bring them back to touch upon his skin and bring about the electrifying tingle that had happened when their bodies had connected.

"No," he answered in a daze, " it's a mixture of water and corn syrup…you can find the recipe for fake blood anywhere on the internet these days." Charles could feel the heat of Death wafting from his ghostly skin and it drew Charles in, tantalizing him in lazy waves that circled and held him fast like chains. Helpless, he stepped closer, the two a hair's width apart. Death didn't seem to mind, he even put an arm around Charles to close the slight distance, pressing their bodies together. Charles shivered, enjoying the electric current that buzzed along their joined skin, spiking his arousal. He cried out softly, his soft lips forming an "O", when he encountered Death's hardened member through the fabric of his trenchcoat, his hand immediately running down the tight, muscled waist to brush across the tented jeans covering his groin. Death groaned, though Charles could tell it wasn't out of pain, and reached down to knock his hand away. But that brief touch, an action so out of character for his normal self, had been enough to tell Charles that Death was _very_ gifted down below.

Charles' own manhood swelled in response, eager to join in the impending fun.

"So…the nakedness?" Death asked, for hopefully the last time, plucking Charles' splattered glasses from atop his nose to get a better look at his face. He smiled like he liked what he saw, if the voracious look in his eyes was any indication.

"Oh, right. Ah, Molly, she's a classmate of mine, tricked me into coming out here for sex so I could finally lose my virginity. Only I wouldn't have been losing it to her, oh no, she unknowingly set me up to be raped by two douchebags on the football team, Mitchell and Blaine. I don't think she had any idea about that part though. But in the end, no one got any sex and I ran away to hide here. Which is…why I'm here now…" Charles felt like he was drunk, stumbling over his words, his inhibitions completely gone. Oh, he wanted this man, this god of the graveyard. Charles didn't consider himself easy or desperate, how could he be when he'd protected his virginity for eighteen long years? But something about the big, muscled Neanderthal resonated with him, hitting all the right buttons to turn him into a dripping, throbbing mess on the floor with one green flash. Combine Death's appearance with his morbid presence and charisma and Charles was done. If Death wanted him he could have him.

The attraction seemed to be mutual though when Death bent down from his impressive height to whisper into his ear, "Maybe we could change that whole "no one getting sex" thing? Doesn't seem very fair that you came all the way out here to finally lose your virginity and then have to leave humiliated and…unsatisfied." His voice dropped even lower at the end and Charles physically responded with goosebumps ghosting across the span of his arms and legs. The response intensified when Nathan murmured against his neck in that same painfully, deliciously low voice, "I think you're pretty cute. " He accentuated his point by rubbing his sharp arousal into Charles' tight stomach and nipping at the pulse point jumping at Charles' neck.

Charles' masculinity might have balked at being called cute if he wasn't so attracted to the being in front of him, this carbon representation of the mortal end who made his heart leap high and his libido higher. Standing so close to the spectral made it hard to think, though that could have been because all of his blood was rushing south and away from his brain, but Charles did manage to speak one last coherent sentence.

"How can you find me cute when I'm covered in something alike to human blood in appearance while we're in a tomb?"

He smirked. "Cause it's fucking brutal and because you are fucking cute. What do I call you anyways? Little sexy lamb?" Charles narrowed his eyes, but he was pretty sure Death was kidding with him once he was the sharp canines peeking out from beneath his grin.

"It's Charles, Charles Foster Offdensen."

"Charlie it is then," Death growled before claiming the lips he had desired since he'd first seen Charles run by the mausoleum. The kiss was initially rough, more a clashing of teeth and skin than anything, but once the initial rush was over the gesture became soft and hesitant, the two brushing their lips together gently, noses bumping both accidentally and purposely, as they learned the feel of each other. Death was the first to push it farther, his tongue darting out to lick the plump lower lip of his companion. When Charles moaned and pressed himself closer he pushed his tongue out again, this time slipping it between Charles' parted lips to engage the other in a duel. The two pushed and slid against one another, tasting and dominating, but as Charles had known would happen, Death won. In submission, Charles tilted his head back, giving Death the access he needed to plunder his prize. And plunder he did, tracing the contours of Charles' mouth with his tongue, running it over sharp teeth, skimming along the ridged roof to tickle Charles.

Charles could barely stand on his legs they were shaking so badly. He imagined this was what a colt felt like after it had been forced out of the warm womb of its mother, wobbly and uncertain of what it should do. He whimpered plaintively at the slight pain of his lower lip being taken between Death's teeth and slightly pulled but that pain quickly crossed the line over into pleasure when Death's devious tongue soothed the irritation with a wet lick. Charles had to pull away to catch his breath, completely overwhelmed with all the new sensations he was feeling. His manhood was at full mast, fully awake after its' previous hibernation and ready for action, and his hair was sticking up in all directions, courtesy of Death's roaming hands. To Death, Charles looked completely fuckable, with his swollen, pouting lips, mussed up hair, and heavy lidded eyes glazed with arousal. Those same lips parted as he watched them, a pink tongue darting out to wet the twin bows, drawing his gaze with the motion, and when that tongue disappeared back within the mouth it lived in, Death roared and pounced upon him, pushing him back onto the sarcophagus situated in the middle of the room.

The room was still cold but Charles hardly felt it now that there was scalding hot blood rushing through his veins. The temperature of his body warmed the tacky syrup, returning it to liquid form that ran in rivulets down his ribs and thighs. It pooled beneath the two, creating a macabre image; the spectre of death devouring the virgin on the altar, the young life spilling out in an ocean of crimson. To an onlooker, the scene would have been one of sacrifice, which it was in a way. Because there would be a sacrifice tonight, the sacrifice of Charles' purity in all its forms. Charles wasn't a fool; he knew that if he allowed this apparition to take him, to pierce through his innocence and taint him, that he would come out as something new and fresh, freed from the stigma of naiveté to join in the corruptions of knowledge. He wouldn't be able to remain the boy who had entered this sacred ground of eternal rest if he coupled with someone so dark and malevolent, whose aura shrouded them in a haze of red; images flickering across the surface of the haze in black outlines, flashing too quickly to be understood. But why would he want to remain the innocent fool? Charles didn't want to be the quivering lamb surrounded by salivating wolves anymore, just waiting to be slaughtered by a passing predator; he wanted to be strong and fierce, one of passing predators. For once, he wanted to be the one who cornered the weak and struck, tearing defenseless flesh away from bone, feeling the arterial spray coat his maw as he howled in the aftermath of his conquest. He wanted to be a force to be reckoned with, even if it meant dabbling among the shadowed kind. And this man, no- this demon- could make him so. He could feel like it like a pulse against his skin. The pulse thrummed and throbbed and it said in a voice that Charles recalled in a distant memory that was not his own, "Give in to us, yield to us, and we will make you whole."

So Charles did.

Their passion rose to a whole new fervor as the last of Charles' hesitations, ones he hadn't been willing to acknowledge in the face of his attraction to Death, changing what was once passivity to aggression.

He bit at Death's neck, pulling the flesh between his teeth to leave angry red marks, primal lipstick stains. Death in turn responded by grabbing the hair at the back of his head, pulling him back at a sharp angle that denied him access to his lover's skin. But he could still feel the heavenly sharp teeth on his body, sucking and scraping the delicate covering. Charles was sure there would be bruises in the morning but he would show them off proudly for everyone to see. These were his marks, proof that he could tangle with Death and survive.

Charles panted hard, his breath fogging in the chill, the devilish tongue of his partner working its way down Charles' chest. Death lapped at his collarbone, nibbling the protruding bone, before moving onwards to the hardened pebbles on Charles' chest. There he blew hot breaths of air, inciting them to harden further, torturing Charles and wrenching desperate moans from his throat. Death grinned, enjoying the feverish gasps and pleas for mercy the older teen gave him, and blew on the other one. When that didn't give him quite the reaction he was looking for, he sunk his teeth into the surrounding area. Charles screamed then, arching off the marble sarcophagus, his hands clawing at Death's back.

"Please!" he cried, long past being worried about embarrassing himself.

"Please what?" Death purred, if demons could purr, already knowing what his lover needed.

But Charles surprised him. Instead of giving into his anger at being teased and responding with something vulgar and pornographic that would have undoubtedly produced an equally pornographic answer in the form of thrusting hips and gnashing teeth, he pulled his lover down for another searing kiss, focusing more on conveying how he was making Charles feel more than trying to eat his face. It was harder than their previous kiss, but not violent or painful, with less dominance and more interaction. Instead of fighting, their tongues danced, moving in complicated patterns that left them breathless and wet.

When they parted for air, both of them sucking oxygen down in great gulps after having deprived themselves of it for so long, Charles arched his pelvis into the bigger man, his hands gripping Death's taut ass to hold him close while he ground himself against the other.

Death growled at him and Charles cowered a little, showing that he meant no disrespect and wasn't trying to dominate him, but that he just wanted to move things along. In what he hoped was a seductive manner, Charles leaned forward, his lips surrounded by the thick fall of black hair, to whisper into his reaper's ear, "Make me whole, Death. Corrupt me with your body."

Death growled again, this time in pleasure, and set out to do his lover's bidding. Death dragged one of his long, thick fingers through the red gunk covering the young male, coating the digit thoroughly. While the hand that had been playing in the goo drifted lower, barely skimming the surface of his ribs in its descent, the other flicked and pinched one of Charles' nipples. His hand traced a circle around the bud, teasing Charles by avoiding the hypersensitive center, forcing louder and louder moans out of his body. The circle gradually closed until the bud was between two fingers being squeezed and pulled and Charles couldn't get enough of it. He'd never known how sensitive his chest was but his lover seemed to know and he worked the area expertly, the incredible pleasure only being topped by the hot, moist mouth sucking on the other one, a tongue in place of the flicking finger.

Charles didn't know what to do with himself under the onslaught of pleasure. His hands tried to grip the marble altar beneath his back, vainly attempting to ground himself and regain his sanity, but the combination of syrup and sweat thwarted his hold. He tried clawing at the back of his partner, carving bloody lines into the pale skin, but that only seemed to spur his lover on. The mouth against his nipple didn't release its prize but sucked harder, adding the harsh bite of teeth to the torture. His body was inflamed, one giant, pulsing thing of need, and Death eagerly built the heat into a hellstorm with the skillful use of tongue and fingers. Those devilish drifted everywhere, ghosting across his ass, trailing down his inner thighs, pinching the skin behind his knees, but they avoided his aching cock. The action was deliberate on Death's part because there was no way to miss Charles' erection. It stood up straight and proud, the bulbous head leaking precum in dribbling streams of white down the sides, purple from all the blood racing through it. Oh yes, his erection was a sight to see, which meant that his lover was trying to make him go insane. Charles understood that the process of being changed and reformed into something new would be painful and that he would have to suffer while he went through it, but he was at his limit! He needed to come!

"Please, Death…" He finally broke, begging the bigger male for relief. But Death didn't heed his request, either because he didn't hear him or because he was feigning ignorance to force Charles to say it.

"Please what?" he whispered, his large, predatory eyes boring into Charles' crazed ones.

"Please!" Charles whined again, bucking wildly against the weight of the other man, doing anything to relieve the terrible pressure in his loins, "Touch me!" But Death was never easy nor quick when it came to granting the requests of his victims, so Charles' begging was only answered with a deep chuckle.

"I am touching you," he teased darkly into the brunette's ear, emphasizing his point with a squeeze to the boy's thigh.

Charles screamed his frustration, like a raging panther trapped in a cave, a primal sound that defied his humanity and echoed within the confines of the mausoleum. Death had never heard anything so carefree or beautiful. Charles took advantage of his companion's temporary lapse in attention to take control. Using a move born from desperation, he flipped Death over and underneath him, using Death's weight and momentum to pull himself on top in the same move. Death was too surprised at the sudden change in position to stop him, but Charles knew that would end quickly, so he gripped both of their erections- Charles cried out involuntarily at the sheer size of Death, so much bigger and thicker than his own cock- with both of his hands and stroked them, too close to his own orgasm to care about technique. When Death tried to swat his hands away he squeezed and slid his nail through the drop of precum that had gathered at the slit of Death's cock, killing any protests he had. Death decided to just sit back and watch Charles work himself past the edge.

Charles was so close, he could feel the pleasure building like a wave in his belly, just waiting to crash over him and take him away. While he knew that the frisky handjob wouldn't be enough to send Death over the edge with him, he couldn't stop his hands from stroking the two engorged cocks. As his orgasm drew closer and his ability to mind his actions left him, Charles began to pump his hips and torso into his hands, using his whole body to fuck his own grip. He thrust once, twice, and on the third stroke came, a hoarse cry leaving his lips and heavy streams of semen escaping his cock to splatter on Death's chest. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of his lover and, consequently, onto his own cum. It felt warm and thick, he noted blearily, a lot like Death's penis.

Death, who had been silent up until then, groaned and threaded his fingers through Charles' sweat soaked hair, petting him while Charles basked in the afterglow.

"That was really hot. Never knew you had it in you. You…think you can go again? I still have my own monster to take care of." As if to remind him again of his present arousal, the enormous cock jumped, nudging Charles' backside insistently. Charles thought about how he felt and decided yes, he could go again for that.

At his nod, Death reached forward, trailing the still lubricated finger down Charles' crack. It slipped between the two globes easily, resting against the puckered hole hidden there. When Charles didn't scream or try to get away, Death applied pressure to the hole, pulling back when Charles whimpered at the slight intrusion to circle the tense ring.

"It's alright, Charlie, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just relax and I'll make you feel good," Death whispered, his tone surprisingly gentle. He placed a soft kiss on Charles' cheek.

Charles took comfort from the obvious concern, willing himself not to clench up. He wanted this, but he was scared from all the new feelings. He was ready to give himself to Death though, so with a control born from an incredible will he calmed himself enough for the first thick finger to breach his entrance. Charles whined a little at first, unsure of the pressure of being filled even with just a finger, but eventually the uncomfortable pain ebbed away. He found that after a while it wasn't that bad and there was actually some pleasure to be found in the slowly thrusting finger. But the slight pain had been enough to worry him, if he could barely handle just one finger, how was he to take that entire behemoth?

Soon a second finger was easing past the tight ring of muscle to join the first, the two pushing in together, scissoring to stretch the tight channel. When the third finger was added and his entrance was much softer, molding itself around the triple digits, Death was able to reach the boy's prostate. With a devious smirk plastered on his face he flicked the small nub with all three fingers, glorifying in the surprised moan he received in response.

"You like that, Charlie?"

"Yeah…what was that? Felt…amazing," Charles moaned again, stretching back into the hand inside him. His eyes glazed over and his hips took control, rolling themselves on to Death's fingers to force them deeper. Deciding that Charles was ready for more, he pulled his fingers out, ignoring the sucking pull of his cavity that tried to keep him in. He would be giving it something much better soon enough. He had to smile when Charles vocally complained at the loss, planting a kiss on the pouting lips.

He shifted their position so that Charles was back underneath him and Charles suddenly sobered up, adopting a serious and somewhat frightened attitude now that the actual act was upon him. Somewhat hesitant, he opened his legs, allowing Death to settle between his thighs. Death noticed his trepidation though and moved to soothe it, pressing soft kisses up and down the line of his jaw, starting at his cheek and moving down to the corner of his lips. He repeated the trail several times until Charles relaxed again under the seduction. Death lined his cock up with the boy's entrance and, after one more slow, languorous kiss, pushed the mushroomed head inside.

Even with the preparation Charles was tight and his walls squeezed down on the intruding member, trying to expel it. Death paused, letting the channel loosen a bit before he thrust forward again, burying his member deep inside the molten heat.

Once completely sheathed he had to stop again, not for Charles' comfort but so he wouldn't come too soon. He'd never been with anyone as tight as Charles or anyone who gripped him nearly as hard before. It felt incredible.

Charles shifted his hips when he was accustomed to the size, letting him know without a word that he was ready for more. Immediately Death pulled out until only the tip was encased before shoving himself back in to the hilt. He pounded into the eager body beneath him, slamming his cock deep into Charles' ass, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the chamber. And Charles met him thrust for thrust, pushing his hips up when Death's came down so that they would collide and Death's cock would grind against his prostate with each thrust. He watched as that massive member disappeared inside of his body, amazed that all of that could fit into his tiny hole. He felt filled and complete, like he'd actually been missing a part of himself this entire time and he hadn't noticed and that with the swollen cock inside of him he was whole again.

He moaned beneath the raven-haired spectre, wrapping his legs around the other's waist to pull him closer and hold him inside. Just like he'd imagined, he could feel himself changing, mutating, shedding his previous containment as Death owned and fucked him.

Something was building within him, greater than an orgasm but with the same purpose. As Death plowed his entrance and milked his cock with his hand, he felt…satisfaction. This was right, this was what he had been missing. Being with someone and knowing they wanted you as much as you wanted them. Death wanted him; Death wasn't playing any games or trying to trick him. He had asked him for this, seduced him and prepared him, because he wanted to be with him and found him attractive. He wished he could stay with this man forever, not just for this coupling. A coupling that would be ending soon if the sporadic thrusting and increased speed were any indication.

"Ugh…Charlie…I'm close!" Death groaned, increasing the speed of his pumping even more, pressing Charles into the altar and pulling his thighs even tighter around his hips. He pounded him into the marble as he raced to bring Charles before he blew his load.

Charles tried to hold onto the pleasure and draw it out but a few fierce tugs on his dick and he was done, screaming Death's name for all to hear as his stomach was splattered with white cum. With his orgasm Charles' channel tightened painfully around Death, bringing him in the next thrust. He growled viciously and bit into Charles' shoulder as his member twitched and he emptied his seed, filling his lover with his cum.

They lay panting together afterwards, neither motivated or willing to separate and end the moment.

"Death," Charles panted heavily, laughing at how exhausted he was from something so simple and how difficult it was to turn his head to face Death, "That was…incredible. I never thought…that it could be so mind-blowing! It was…it was…just amazing."

Death laughed next to him and reached an arm out, pulling the boy closer. "Thanks, you were fucking amazing yourself. But why do you keep calling me Death? It was, you know, hot during the sex but that's not really my name."

Charles sat up on his elbows and looked at him, confusion marring his face as he tried to figure out what he was talking about. When he still didn't figure it out the other man decided to save time and explain, "I'm Nathan…Nathan Explosion. I'm in your independent study period." He looked at him meaningfully, with an intensity that would scare most people, willing him to remember him.

The realization quickly dawned on Charles. "You're the one who sits on the back muttering into the tape recorder!" Charles added in his head that he was also the only attractive guy in the entire classroom. "Why are you in a mausoleum at three in the morning dressed like a graverobber?"

At that Nathan blushed, the red easily showing up against his skin even when he turned to look away from Charles.

"I'm in a…uhh…death metal band and I've kind of got…writer's block. So my bandmates suggested that I get some…hrmm…inspiration or something by coming out here in character or whatever. Pickles came up with the idea so blame him if it sounds dildo. Heh, never thought it would work though. Now I've got all these song ideas to use. Thanks for that, by the way. I didn't know you were so, you know, brutal. And fucking sexy. Losing your virginity on an altar in the middle of a graveyard to a guy you think is Death is fucking metal! I mean, I've always thought you were brutal but this…this is awesome. I've uhhh…been meaning to ask you this for a while but…you wanna go out with me? Like, as my boyfriend?"

"What? Why? Not that I'm against the idea but this is, ah, somewhat sudden. I know I've watched you in class and admired the way you inspire fear in everyone who comes near you, but I'm totally different from you. I'm bookish and boring and dull! Why would you want to be with someone like me?" Charles wanted him but never in his wildest dreams had he thought that the intense Neanderthal would ever be interested in him.

"Well, I watch you in class and stuff- but not like a stalker! I just…like to watch you think and the faces you make. Did you know when you're annoying your brow scrunches up and you stare daggers of death at your desk? And when you figure stuff out you, like, smile in this totally brutal, sadistic way, like you just conquered yet another part of the world. Plus, I think you're really cute. I just never spoke to you cause…you're in a totally different league from me. You're smart and I'm about to drop out cause my grades suck so much. But…maybe now…you'd want to?" Nathan, dark, hulking, demon-voice Nathan, thought Charles was better than him. Utter nonsense of course but still! What was he thinking? Nathan had plenty to offer him and that was excluding his, ahem, impressive package. He had given him freedom and a new outlook on life and, to Charles, that was worth Nathan's weight in gold.

"Yes, Nathan, I would love to go out with you. But you have to walk me to all my classes and make out with me at your locker. Deal?"

Nathan grinned and eagerly agreed. The two shared another kiss, a much more meaningful one, and got up from the altar to head out. Now that the sex was over the cold was bothering Charles, not to mention all the gunk he was covered in. They left, the white marble altar smeared with red.

With Nathan's vast knowledge of the graveyard's setup they were able to find their way out faster than Charles had made his way in. Charles had Nathan's trenchcoat draped over his shoulders since he'd been unable to find his clothes when he'd gone back to where he had first been with Molly. Bastards had stolen his clothes, typical jerks. But he liked the coat better anyways because it smelled like Nathan. The two walked to Charles' home together for a little sleep and a shower, with Charles held possessively under one of Nathan's arms.

While leaving they completely missed the two girls sitting on top of a tombstone near the entrance. They stared with expressions of horror and amusement as the lovebirds left together.

"Was that…was that guy naked under the trenchcoat?" Miss Sunshine asked, unsure of what she'd just seen.

"Yep, I'm pretty sure he was. And I'm pretty sure among all that red was a splash of white. The dudes just had some nasty, kinky sex in the graveyard and we missed it," the real Death answered.

"Whoa," she muttered, her eyes wide as she watched them walking down the street, "The things you see in a graveyard…"

There was a moment of silence before Miss Sunshine got over her shock and turned to her friend to ask, "You wanna go see if we can find where they did it?"

"Hell yeah, I do! Better than waiting here for zombies to eat our brains."

"Hey! Whose idea was it to do a scavenger hunt in a graveyard at three in the morning with just two people? And then forget to bring the list of items you hid? Oh yeah, yours."

Death laughed out loud, taking her friend's hand as they went deeper into the crypt in search of the copulation site. "Yeah, mourners are gonna find some interesting personal items the next couple of days. But because of my idea we got to see hot, naked manmeat. That's almost as good as unsatisfactory birthday sex! Happy birthday, by the way."

FINALLY DONE! I have no idea why that took me so long to type up because it was only ten pages on paper. But then again I have really tiny handwriting. But I hope Miss Sunshine enjoys her birthday gift and I hope all of you enjoyed reading it as well! Check my profile for updates on the stories! This story was tame because Miss Sunshine is not into the really pornographic yaoi sex. So the hardcore stuff isn't going away, have no fear! It just wasn't present for this. Also, I hope you guys caught the few references I made to another totally brutal and awesome movie! If you didn't…you need to google it and find out what I'm talking about. You'll thank me. So don't forget to read and review because each review makes me work a little faster! I'm not kidding, they really do. I've realized that pathetically threatening you guys does nothing (LMAO! Like anyone would take it seriously.) and I don't have time currently to work on the next chapter anyways so keep reviewing just because you like to make authors happy! Thanks!


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